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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000960">The Ancient West</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DataSupremacy/pseuds/DataSupremacy'>DataSupremacy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Requests: NSFW [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Holodeck Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:48:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DataSupremacy/pseuds/DataSupremacy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader gets trapped on a malfunctioning Holodeck. (Set during "A Fistful of Datas".)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Hollander (Star Trek) / Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Requests: NSFW [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Ancient West</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☆☆☆</p>
<p>There’s a bump on your head the size of a space shuttle and the thrum of your pulse sends the pain from the point trickling down through the rest of your body, turning your stomach and making you whimper.</p>
<p>You turn your head as if to follow the lingering haze of blissful unconsciousness and your cheek nuzzles against something soft but solid. ’<em>A pillow?’</em> you wonder, trying as hard as you can to think past the red haze of pain. ’<em>Am I in sickbay?’</em></p>
<p>It takes another long few seconds, but you finally manage to crack open one eye. But instead of harsh fluorescents and Dr. Crusher’s worried-but-smiling face, the lighting here has a golden haze and the scent of tobacco tickles your nose as you unconsciously seek refuge from it, hiding your face more securely against the mysterious object.</p>
<p>That’s when you hear it.</p>
<p>A laugh.</p>
<p>Someone chuckles right next to your face, their lips brushing against the shell of your ear. Orientation finally kicks in and you realize, with slowly dawning horror, that you’re not lying in bed. Someone is CARRYING you.</p>
<p>“Easy,” that someone warns as you flinch back. Their grip on you tightens to keep you from tumbling out of their arms. “You don’t want to hurt yerself, do ya little lady?”</p>
<p>That voice.</p>
<p>It sounds familiar and yet completely foreign to you at the same time. The light is still too bright for you to comfortably open your eyes all the way, so you wearily wrack your brains, trying to remember what you had been doing last… you’d completed your shift in Engineering… gone to the Holodeck with Worf, Deanna and Alexander…</p>
<p>The Holodeck!</p>
<p>You’re still on the Holodeck!</p>
<p>Someone, or SOMETHING, had hit you from behind while you were bringing back a sack full of ancient currency to pay Deanna’s alter-ego with. But how could they have hurt you? What the hell happened to the Holodeck’s safeguards?</p>
<p>“Here we are. Take a seat, darlin’.”</p>
<p>The invitation is as soft as a purr, but you don’t really have much of a choice in the matter as you’re dumped onto a sofa. You struggle to right yourself, fighting against the skirt of this era-appropriate dress you’d had synthesized and force your eyes to open, gritting your teeth against the pain in your head.</p>
<p>Nothing around you looks familiar. There’s the couch you’re sitting on, a desk covered in papers, and a table covered in playing cards and surrounded by empty chairs. Sunlight streams in through three separate windows, giving the room an undeserved sense of cheer. This must be a villain’s hideout if you’ve been kidnapped… but then, who’s brought you here?</p>
<p>You finally turn your head to look at the hologram evidently capable of causing harm… and your jaw drops.</p>
<p>“Commander?”</p>
<p>Data’s standing just a steps from the sofa, dressed up like a cowboy, appraising you as you get a look at your surroundings. Was he the one that hit you? No, that can’t be possible. He’d never hurt anyone. You’re not even positive that he can.</p>
<p>“I’m real sorry about that bump on your head, ma'am,” he drawls. Somehow both sounding like Data and sounding nothing like him at all. “My boys don’t mean to be so rough. It’s just that we’re all real shook up about my son’s unlawful incarceration.”</p>
<p>“Data, wait a second.”</p>
<p>You don’t know what’s going on or why, but you DO know that you don’t feel like playing this game anymore.</p>
<p>“My head really hurts! Was that you who hit me? I understand getting into the spirit of things, but you knocked me out!” you’re fuming, struggling to stand. “Computer, freeze program. Data, I think you’ll have to tell Worf and Alexander that I’m -”</p>
<p>“Sit back down,” he interrupts, his hand going to his hip where his gun is holstered. “You’re not going anywhere yet, darlin’.”</p>
<p>“Data!” your protests don’t seem to mean much to him. “Computer, freeze program!”</p>
<p>Nothing happens.</p>
<p>The sun keeps shining, dust motes keep circling in the air, and you can still hear noises from the street down below.</p>
<p>“Commander, what’s wrong with the holodeck?”</p>
<p>Data stares at you curiously, then laughs.</p>
<p>REALLY laughs.</p>
<p>“They must have hit you pretty hard, cause you’re not making a lick of sense. I’ll have to speak to my men about that. ‘least he had the good sense not to bruise your pretty face.”</p>
<p>Now it’s your turn to stare at him like you don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. This can’t be Data. Data doesn’t hurt people. He doesn’t laugh. And he REALLY doesn’t use contractions. But if this isn’t Data, then who the hell is he? And why is the Holodeck ignoring your commands?</p>
<p>“I don’t know who you think you are,” you snap, irritated by his laughter. “But you better let me out of here, or I swear I’ll -”</p>
<p>“Where are my manners?” He interrupts you for a second time, taking his hand from his gun and leaning forward to leer at you. “The name is Frank Hollander. And, unfortunately, I can’t be lettin’ you walk out that door. Not until the sheriff and I have ourselves a little talk.”</p>
<p>“Sheriff? You mean Worf?” you ask, still struggling to wrap your head around this. The story that Alexander and Reginald programmed seems to be ongoing, but why does this Frank Hollander look like Data? “Well, fine. Talk to him all you want. What do I have to do with any of that?”</p>
<p>“I notice that you and the sheriff are on a friendly basis. You using his first name and all. Bet he’d be real sorry if he made any choices that had consequences for you.”</p>
<p>You’re not sure if it’s his tone of voice or that you know the Holodeck is malfunctioning, but that thinly veiled threat sends shivers up your spine. That’s the exactly the response that Frank seemed to have wanted, because his grin widens.</p>
<p>“Seems to me that you know why you’re here, now.”</p>
<p>“I know why YOU think I’m here,” you snap, before you can stop yourself. “But you’re wrong. There’s nothing going on between me and the sheriff and he’s not going to negotiate with you just because you’re holding me here.”</p>
<p>Your impassioned outburst seems to have surprised him. His eyebrows raise and his lips twitch with what looks like irritation, but he smooths his expression over before you can really be sure and touches your cheek again, this time sliding his thumb down the curve of your neck to the hollow of your collarbone.</p>
<p>“Now, now.” he tsks. “What decent, law-abiding man would do nothing about his woman being in danger?”</p>
<p>“I already told you, I’m not HIS woman. And you’re not a danger to him.”</p>
<p>He’s not. He can’t be, right? Maybe the Holodeck is malfunctioning, but he’s STILL just a hologram, isn’t he? It’s hard to imagine Worf being intimidated by him.</p>
<p>If your outburst bothers him, it doesn’t show on his face. In fact, his grin widens. “Then maybe what I ought to be asking is why a pretty thing like yerself is hanging around a man who’d just leave you in danger?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that he would do that. I just said that you can’t leverage me.”</p>
<p>“If you were MY woman,” Frank continues like you hadn’t spoken at all. “I’d kill the bastard who touched ya. No one would ever get their hands on you.”</p>
<p>His eyes bore into yours and you can’t help but shiver. They might be pale gold like the commander’s, but they’re full of fire like you’ve never seen and it’s suddenly ten degrees warmer in this room. You squirm against the couch.</p>
<p>“Don’t you have better things to do than sit around talking in hypotheticals?” you sneer at him, trying to sound as cold as possible. This hologram wearing a superior officer’s face isn’t getting to you. Nuh-uh. Not at all. “Like coming up with a backup plan, since this one isn’t going to work out for you?”</p>
<p>“Seems just fine to me,” he’s still leaning down over you, eyes gleaming with intent that you either can’t or aren’t ready to read into. “You say that he won’t make a deal with me… but I’m not so sure. I’m thinking I’ll go and talk to him about it anyway. See if he can’t see the value in meeting me in the middle.”</p>
<p>“Fine. You go do that then.”</p>
<p>“All in good time. Gotta give him a chance to miss you first. Man don’t know what he’s got til it’s gone. In the meantime…” he grips your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your gaze on him. “…his loss is my gain.”</p>
<p>And then he’s kissing you. It happens so quickly that you don’t have time to track his movements and can’t do anything but stiffen in surprise when his mouth touches yours. Heat suffuses throughout your entire body, almost unbearable in its intensity, when he pushes against you until your back is flat against the sofa and he’s bent over you, pinning you in place beneath him.</p>
<p>You shouldn’t want this.</p>
<p>You shouldn’t LIKE this.</p>
<p>But what you should and shouldn’t do doesn’t seem to be processed by your brain. You feel a lot of things when he presses down against you: warm, wanting, weak… but not afraid. The tension of surprise leaves your body and you sigh against his lips.</p>
<p>His grip on your chin tightens when you start to tilt your head and you almost want to protest, to insist that you’re not trying to END the kiss, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn’t care what your motivations are. He has you right where he likes you and that’s not changing yet. He tastes and explores your mouth with one slick stroke of his tongue after another, alternating between bruising kisses and gentle nips of his teeth against the soft skin of your lips until your head is spinning.</p>
<p>Your hands are moving before you realize it. Smoothing down the sides of him, fingertips graving over the surprisingly soft fabric of his dark shirt. Hologram or not, he certainly feels real. Your fascination is rewarded with him breaking the kiss and moving his mouth to the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He bites down, hard enough to make you cry out, and then laves his tongue against the mark that left against your skin, soothing the sting.</p>
<p>You only know which way is up by how your hips move to arch against him. Otherwise, you’re completely lost in a torrent of sensation. Cruel nips of his teeth against your skin, soft hands pulling at the fabric of your dress, cool air against your flushed skin when it gives away and bares more of you to him… you’re gasping and eager before he’s even finished leaving the indent of a third love bite on your shoulder.</p>
<p>“Guess you were tellin’ the truth,” Frank says as he starts to sit up and leaves you cold and gasping against the couch cushions. “You don’t feel like no sheriff’s woman.”</p>
<p>His hands are a blur when they move to flip up the skirt of your dress. But just because he can move quicker than you can track doesn’t mean that you can’t FEEL it all and you let out a strangled gasp when he strokes you through the soaked fabric of your panties.</p>
<p>“…You feel like mine,” he finishes, with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Tell me if I’m right, Darlin’. Say it. Whose woman are ya now?”</p>
<p>You don’t get the chance to answer. All the air leaves your lungs in one sharp keening sound as he starts to tease and torment you through the fabric of your underwear. The indirect contact is unbearable, the fabric barrier making the friction rougher against your sensitive skin. It’s the sweetest kind of torture you’ve ever endured, driving out every rational thought left in your head.</p>
<p>“Please, please, please, please, please!” you chant. It’s hard to tell if you’re begging him to keep tormenting you like this or if you want him to give you some kind of relief to the near painful shocks of pleasure that he’s creating. “Frank, please!”</p>
<p>“Please what? You’re a proper lady, ain’t ya? Use your words.”</p>
<p>You could just about sob with frustration. There’s a growing ache inside of you, an emptiness that needs to be sated. But how can you possibly tell him what you want – what you NEED, when you’re tongue tied like this?</p>
<p>“I - oh, god! I want… nnn… you,” you manage to rasp out, your eyes finding his again.</p>
<p>There’s no mercy in his gaze. Just cruel satisfaction in having you so completely undone by him and, if it’s even possible, you think that gets you even more aroused.</p>
<p>“Tell me just what you’d like me to do,” he growls, his thumb rubbing over your clit. “How do you want me? Just like this?”</p>
<p>You’re so frustrated with his teasing that you could cry. Your eyes sting and your throat tightens even as you force yourself to growl right back at him. “I want you inside of me, dammit!”</p>
<p>He pulls his hand from beneath your skirt and runs his thumb against your lower lip, living your mouth glistening with your own arousal before he leans in to kiss it away.</p>
<p>You melt for that kiss. It’s hot enough to liquify your insides and you part your lips for his tongue without any prompting, inviting him to take complete control over you. It’s the sweetest surrender you’ve ever felt…</p>
<p>For the moment, at least. Because, in the next, he’s undoing his belt and holster, tossing them both to the ground before he pulls his trousers down and bunches your skirts up in his fist while his free hand pulls your ruined undergarments to the side and then guides the head of his cock to you.</p>
<p>He nips at your bottom lip before he pulls away, his gaze boring into yours again. “Say it, now. Whose woman are ya?”</p>
<p>The word is on your lips before you can even think it. “Yours.”</p>
<p>You’re holding your breath in anticipation and yet you’re still not prepared for the heat or the length of his cock when it thrusts inside of you. But he doesn’t seem interested in giving you time to contemplate it. His mouth finds yours again and he greedily swallows every whimpering moan that you make as he moves inside you.</p>
<p>You’ve never – nothing you’ve ever done with anyone has been like THIS. Shattering your sense of self, of right and wrong, of reality and fiction, and then piecing you back together with only one remaining conviction: that you’re exactly where you need to be. Every roll of his hips against yours just solidifies that fact. You’re scorched inside and out by the heat of his lust and pulling him closer like you’re terrified of ever feeling cold again. And then tighter still when the pressure that’s been building inside of you is more than you can bear.</p>
<p>Frank’s lips graze your ear, just like before. “Say it 'gain. Who do you belong to?”</p>
<p>You barely manage to gasp the word out. “You!”</p>
<p>The pressure reaches its breaking point and you toss your head back, lips tracing the letters of his name without making a sound.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>You’re glad there are no mirrors in this room, because you’re not sure you could endure the embarrassment of seeing if you look as thoroughly wrecked as you feel. Trying to comb the knots from your hair is proving difficult and the shoulder of your dress is torn on one side.</p>
<p>You don’t want to think about what your neck must look like. Bruises in the shape of his teeth, no doubt.</p>
<p>Frank looks impeccable, the damned hologram. He re-holsters his gun and straightens his hat before looking at you, just as smugly as he had when he first dumped you on that couch.</p>
<p>“I’ve still got some negotiating to do with the Sheriff 'bout my boy. You just sit tight. I’ll have my men pick you out something pretty to wear to his funeral.”</p>
<p>You can’t say a word, but your cheeks feel hot enough to tell you that you’re blushing.</p>
<p>If Frank notices, he doesn’t say. Just leans down to kiss you one more time before he heads out the door.</p>
<p>…God, you hope he spares Worf the details about your “kidnapping” or you might never be able to look him in the eyes again.</p>
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